ALPHABET SOUP
by Larry1710
Summary: It's like a bad Spanish soap opera, mistaken idenities, bearded villians, unavailable love interests, long lost mothers, a battle of good and evil, strange lands, magic and odd literary techninques. My poor protagonist.
1. Chapter 1

_**Cogito cogito ergo cogito sum (I think that I think therefore I think I am)**_

_**-Ambrose Bierce**_

**_-_**

**_F is for FEAR_**

**_-_**

If this were happening to someone else, Lily thought, this might be funny.

Lily was standing in front of the Lady of the Light, Galadriel, one of the first born, the Eldar, a sorceress, a telepath, a sentient being that was thousands of years old and wiser, more beautiful and cleverer than Lily would ever be. In short, she was terrifying and Lily was scared shitless. And if the fact that Lily was a human trespassing in the woods of Lothlorien was not bad enough…Lily had been in Galadriel's territory over a month, in her very city for a week without seeming to invoke stronger feelings than slight disdain and suspicion. But now of course, a series of events had culminated in a meeting with the Lady and it was not on hospitable terms.

It was suspected that Lily was the reincarnation of a female elf, an elleth called Adrianna. Which was absurd as Lily was completely human and always had been and was completely unlike elves. But the elves seem adamant that she had qualities that were similar to Adrianna. Now, Lily's first thought had been, oh, that's flattering. Because of course, elves are all that is grace, elegance, beauty, serenity, wisdom and light. They are the first born, the more beautiful and stunning beings ever in existence, whereas humans are a bit of a disappointment, or so the elves thought.

Unfortunately it was not a compliment. Elves are not perfect…no one is and no one should be thought so. Adrianna had been a beautiful elleth, born to a powerful family, clever and greatly admired. A enchantress, whose magic powers and beauty had guranteed her always getting her own way. In short, she was vain, spoilt, manipulative. Not that any of the elves had told her any of this, because they don't like to admit to failings of any kind, but Adrianna was a b… a disagreeable sort of person. Lily had crept into their library (elves liked to record things for posterity) with a candle after sundown and searched through all the parchments and the leather bound books with fervour that she had never quite felt before. It was motivated by fear.

Adrianna had lived three thousand years ago. Her crime had been driving two Elven princes to distraction with her feminine wiles (or her considerable magic), well perhaps distraction was too weak a word, for the two princes had gathered their soldiers and battled each other out. While reading, Lily had been struck by the sheer stupidity of the three involved and the hypocrisy of the elves who were always going on about how humans were morally inferior. She had also been disgusted by this Helen of Troy wannabe.

Thousands had died. Was it for love, she wondered, or merely greed and jealousy? At any rate, she wasn't impressed. Both princes had died. Adrianna fled after the battle to her family, who shunned her. So she wandered to the human realms and then disappeared and no one had heard of her since. She hadn't tried to find safety with the other Elven realms as she knew that none would welcome her.

And then Lily had turned up, dishevelled and alone, fleeing Orcs, on the border. A human girl who understood Elvish despite never seeing an elf before, a girl who was magical, with Adrianna's mannerisms and her smile, it had made those who remembered Adrianna think.

If Galadriel decided that Lily was some strange watered down, human version of Adrianna, she thought, what would she do? Would she send her away into the wilderness? Would she punish her? Fear caused Lily's breathing to hitch as she looked into Galadriel's bottomless and emotionless azure eyes…would she be executed for Adrianna's crimes?

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Reviews would be nice. Constructive criticism is helpful.


	2. Chapter 2

**PART TWO OF ALPHABET SOUP**

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**A is for adventure**

_"A friend in need is a friend indeed…_

_Our thoughts compressed which makes us blessed_

_And makes for stormy weather."_

Placebo – Pure Morning

**Diary extract – obtained for police evidence**

**Lily Griffin**

12th September

Double acts are always much more fun than flying solo; Laurel and Hardy, the two Ronnies to The Mighty Boosh and Little Britain. Humans need camaraderie, someone to bounce ideas of, someone to tell all your crazy little thoughts to, and someone to be your best friend. Now, friends come and go, but best friends are hard to shake off. Mainly because they cling, like angry limpets to their friends and refuse, absolutely refuse to let go. Could it be that they just don't like the change, they don't want to be alone when they are so used to having someone beside them? Or is it because best friends are just a little bit special, something that not everyone has and shouldn't ungratefully throw into the gutter? Don't you think that the chemistry between best friends is a little bit magic?

This is what I said to Jean-Luc in a desperate attempt to emotionally blackmail him to stay in London. Didn't work, of course, because he is as stubborn as a mule, perhaps more so and of course, he had just got a very prestigious placement with some important enchanter, which had been his dream ever since he was a little boy, taking him deep into Derbyshire.

"I see, cherie. You think without me you will be Charlie Chaplin." He chuckled at his own joke (sad man) and put his last suitcase very carefully into the back of his battered Ford Mondeo and turned around to face me in the cold and foggy morning light. He grinned lopsidedly, shrugged in a very European way, and then turned to get into his car.

"Oy, oy! What do you think you're doing, Luc?" I exclaimed in a half jokey, half insulted voice, so he would turn around and give me a big hug, which he did. "Are we going to turn into those people who are very close and then suddenly forget about each other apart from birthdays and bar mitzvahs?" I asked, still in his embrace.

"We don't go to bar mitzvahs, we don't know any Jews."

"We could gatecrash."

"We tried that and we failed. You will come and visit me next month and maybe you will meet Mikhail de Flamellus."

"Oh lucky me, I get to meet some decrepit, eccentric, boring magician. Woo hoo."

It feels cruel to begrudge him of his dreams. I mean, a man has to dream and to actually get to realise them…it's all a bit extraordinary. I do wish him all the best and it's not like he's going out of my life forever but nothing will ever be the same again. Bah humbug, right? Who cares about me, he's off having grand adventures in the countryside with that magic loser….

It's not like I didn't have a dream. My dream was for everything to go on exactly as it was….It's just that…double acts are so much funnier when they're together.

This sucks. A lot.

**13th September. Harrods.**

Why am I in Harrods? This isn't my scene at all. Although I do like the bookshop but then I like most bookshops. I'm waiting for my agent, who is the most extravagant, theatrical and luminous person I have ever met and frequently outshines the people she represents. Me included. She is great fun though and a very kind person, under all that red lipstick and powder. And she's always late, which I don't mind at all, as I'm always late too, so we usually arrive at the same time but I can see her chatting over in the centre of the room to that illusionist who was in the papers a few days ago. Eva probably wants him as a client now that he's famous and therefore interesting…she only represents people that she finds interesting, or in my case, people who have friends who are interesting.

I'm not really much of a witch. I don't really mind though, I'm not exactly ambitious in that area, unlike Jean who is astronomically ambitious and wants to become the best enchanter that ever existed. He hero-worships Merlin, whereas I hero-worship Moliere. I'm not even sure I could be considered a witch, I'm more of a hedge witch, which amused me at first, it sounds a lot like hedge hog…anyway, this café is rather pretentiously decadent although I am liking the maroon leather sofas and the piano playing…I think that's Chopin…I should venture out of Camden more often.

Oh God, she's coming over. She's going to order a G&T even though it's only eleven o'clock, kiss me three times on the cheeks because she once spent a week in France and it's what they do there darling and then smother me with her perfume. Then she'll brutally attack me and insist that I have to do some publicity for my new play and suggest Vogue, then I'll say no way in hell, then she'll cajole me and flatter me and I'll be cynical and make sarcastic and flippant comments and then an hour and a half later I'll agree to be interviewed by the Guardian after being bribed with chocolate cake.

Here we go.

**16th September**

Phoned Jean. Lousy best friend. Have to hang out with all the actors I work with now that he's abandoned me. Am never without a hangover and I know too much about what goes on behind the scenes at RADA…I was very much disturbed by what goes on behind the scenes at my theatre…They seem impressed though when I told them about Jean and my adventures in bohemian Paris though…you should always be cooler than your actors, otherwise they get uppity. Anyway, he's all excited because him and whatshisname are doing breakthrough experiments and have found a pinprick sized hole in the fabric of the world. I told him that it would be time much better spent if he cured cancer, solved drought or global warming, never mind findings holes in fabric. He just scoffed at me and said that I wouldn't understand. Which is rude but I always say that to people when I'm in the middle of writing a play and they say, well why bother if it's so hard? Don't people realise that nothing worth doing is easy? He sounded really tired though, mumbling incoherent sentences. I'm a wee bit worried. I don't think he's sleeping.

Play rehearsals are going badly. Went and saw the director but it's hard to explain how it looked in my imagination without resorting to cliché sentences…he doesn't really like me, does Hatter. He's brilliant though and if we didn't have an argument…okay several arguments, lots of yelling and derogative comments, scheming and pranking each other then it just wouldn't be the same. And it would be so dull. Immature though this behaviour is…I swapped his painkillers with laxatives.

Heehehehehehehhehehee!

**17th September**

It's my birthday in a month! I can't believe it, I'm going to be twenty-four years old…I'm a grown up now, paying taxes and insurance. However did this happen? Last year Jean and I had just arrived in London and were living in what could probably be unfavourably compared to a dungeon, near the Thames, infested with otters. It's hard being a penniless playwright but luckily my fortunes turned round and I now inhabit a rather dashing apartment in Camden although I do miss sharing a bed with the otters….as if! Anyway, for my birthday, we had this really tragic birthday party with the Russian who lived upstairs, in the attic; I had a birthday quiche (cake like and dinner in one, you see) and then we got plastered on bad vodka. Then Jean cast some complicated illusion magic and we pretended we were in the Winter Palace and pranced around the place…

Good times.

Eva persuaded me to be interviewed on the 14th of October, the day before I leave for Derbyshire to live it up with Jean so he can brag about all the fancy spell work that he's been doing. All I can manage to do is ward my flat from burglars and demons, which is rather pathetic considering my best friend is number two on the BBC's list of eligible enchanters. Sigh.

**27th September**

Called parents, they're on this world trip and currently sunbathing in Jamaica. It's so hard having such carefree and relaxed parents, makes it really hard to rebel. Anyway, they're having a lot of fun, which is more than I can say, as the boiler just broke and my knowledge of mechanical magic has been known to explode sinks, so I had to wait three hours for a plumber, who took one look at the cracked boiler and waved his wand and it was fixed. I have to say I'm really against this new fad, wands, it's so ridiculous. Magic isn't a bloody orchestra, you're not conducting it! Although, that is just what all the papers are saying and everyone has rushed out and bought ten wands in all different colours, so they can accessorise. Magic is in everyone, it's just a matter of learning to control it through meditation and will power, two things I can't be bothered to learn. The wands are probably bewitched…what's next? Pointy hats?! Jean would laugh like a loon on loon tablets, its so cliché.

**5th October**

Just got a really weird call from Jean.

I had just returned from a dinner with the girls and was still shrugging off my coat when the phone rang and when I picked it up, when I felt so dizzy that I fell over. I don't think that it was the one glass of wine that I had…I have a feeling…something is very wrong…He spoke and I tried to pay attention but my head was spinning so much, he was talking very fast in French and sounded strange, paranoid even, saying he couldn't be long, that he didn't have much to report, it was all very boring there but that's so unlike Jean- I asked if he was okay and he didn't speak for about a minute, only to reply bien sur. I don't believe him. He's never lied to me before though-

I'm not telepathic, because the mind isn't a book, you can't open it up and turn the pages as you wish. But I pick up feelings and moods more easily than most and I can always tell where magic is and what it is. Not that there's much call for detecting music or being able to read people's moods. But I am going to find every book on Mikhail de Flamellus and the fabric of the world I can find. I have a feeling that it's important.

I wish I could leave London today, tonight, right now.

**10th of October**

There was a hurricane in a place called Kingsway in Derbyshire last night. I read it in the newspaper this morning and almost choked on my coffee…this is Britain, for fs sake, we don't have that kind of weather. They're denying that it's anything to do with magic, just blaming it on global warming, but I can't help think that there are only a few people in the world who are magically strong enough to create a hurricane and only three who live in the U.K. Lord Ashforth is up in Orkney with his mistress (it pays to read The Magical Times, if only for the gossip…the things magic people get up to is slightly disturbing sometime, and usually involves sheep) and I can't imagine the sorceress Tiva creating havoc in the countryside, she prefers the city life…so that only leaves Flamellus and I know he is in Derbyshire.

Jean isn't answering his phone. I sent him a letter. It's not like him to keep so quiet, usually he never shuts up, the arrogant French muppet, going on and on about how important his work is whereas all I have to do is write rhyming couplets about mismatched lovers.

It's harder than you think to come up with words that rhyme with dodgy. Podgy?

**14th of October**

Interview was today. Tragic. Obviously thinks I'm a unfriendly, distant and pretentious brat…said I was worried about my mate but that doesn't excuse me from staring out the window and pouring tea all over myself. What's wrong with me?

The play started today, wish I hadn't called the play "Trignometry for the dyslexic" – sounds like a seminar for special needs. These things sound much better in my head. Wish Jean were here to cheer me up.

I'm going to see Jean in two days even though I've not talked to him since that phone call.

I've got a bad feeling about this.

16th October- on a train

I always bring my diary with me to read on the train so I have something good to read. Although, sadly, this month's entry is lacking in romance and star crossed lovers and even some action…just wondering and a bout of melancholy. London has lost its appeal for me, the bars and clubs and poetry houses and theatre all seem dull and insipid and everyone is so filthy and crude. I don't know what's wrong with me.

I guess I just miss my best friend sob sob whine whine mope mope cry my eyes out fantastic.

There are a lot of odd eccentrics in this carriage. I shall record their conversations for prosperity.

Teenager boy wearing eyeliner and all black clothes-is either depressed, "arty", or a goth. Due to stink of cigarettes and booze and the number stamped on hand, out last night and hasn't changed since. Mumbling rather incoherently to himself, listening to music on an MP3 player, favourite quotation: Nah nah naha yeah yeah their subjugation is our demonstration…..flippity bum bum…eat your words, yeah out ta get yaaaayyaaaa.

Aw, bless the kid.

Woman in her thirties, looking harassed and tired, t-shirt on inside out, but it's hardly noticeable so I didn't think to tell her. Has a three year old child which is bouncing up and down probably because she has a sugary drink in her hand and down chin.

Mummy: Darling, please sit down.

Darling: Don't wanna, hahahaha.

Mummy: Please darling, mummy is tired.

Darling: I want to go see the pilot.

Mummy: This isn't like the airplane, sweetie, there isn't a cockpit.

Darling: What's a cockpat?

Mummy: Cockpit. It's where the pilot sits.

Darling: COCK…PIT. COCK..PIT.

And so on.

Dodgy men sitting together, dirty jeans, at first glance workmen but I don't think the stains on their clothes are paint. It's blood red. And I can see the imprints from where glasses would sit on the bridge on one man's nose and his fingernails are clean. Suspicious, very suspicious…one woman in tweed, some sort of country gentry, is wrinkling her nose in their direction but there guise isn't working on me. They're definitely wizards…maybe enchanters or mages even if they're undercover.

What are they doing on my train? Are they going to the same place as me? Are they in the police?

**.Later, at the manor**

Met Jean in the village and was so relieved to see him but he looks so pale and his hair is tinged with grey…he's barely thirty! And a couple of weeks ago he had dark black hair. Hmmm. Anyway, I said I was surprised that he knew I was coming and he replied that Flamellus had told him…isn't that weird? Yes it most certainly is. Anyway, he gave me a brief tour, church, shop, graveyard, post office etc and then we walked up to the manor and I met the Mikhail de Flamellus or however you spell his name.

There are some people you just dislike on meeting. He wasn't what I was expecting, rather younger than someone so accomplished, around fifty and so thin and watery. His eyes were so pale blue that they looked sickly…his skin looks papery thin and you can see the veins through his skin. His handshake was weak and flaccid…you should never trust anyone with a handshake like a fish.

Jean is very quiet. Which clearly means that the world is coming to an end. I hope that my worries are all unfounded though and he's just fallen in love again. Anyway, my room is alright, I have a good view and we're going out to the pub to celebrate. Flamellus is not coming with us, he has important work to do…he went away softly whispering to himself. Hmm. I shall attack Jean with wine and we shall get to the bottom of this.

**16th, wait no, 17th of October, happy birthday me!**

It's just turned midnight, the witching hour. I still get a kick out of this magic malarkey. Mock mock mock mock mock. Okay so I'm somewhere between sober and tipsy but that in no way diminishes the validity of my argument; Jean should come home! This place is weirdy weirdo. It's this huge 18th century old house, very Palladian, all Roman columns, high ceilings and white wash, which sounds very airy and light and spacious, doesn't it? WRONG! This is England we are talking about, well not talking 'cos this ain't Harry Potter you're not going to chat back to me and thank God that would be awful and mean that either I was delusional or had accidentally mistaken one of Jean's magical artefacts for my journal and I would be down shit creek without a paddle….

Right. It's cold here. Really cold and not just the temperature. It's like nothing is alive…it's so icily unfriendly and chilly. I feel so unwelcome, but of course Jean wouldn't notice because he's very unobservant of people's feelings despite being practically a genius. Very ironic, I've always thought. And the atmosphere, its not just the presence of magic, which is so strong that it's almost stifling, I'm used to that, having hung around with J for long enough.

It's secretive. Almost like they're doing something wrong, illegal, or immoral. I just feel suspicious. It's not like Flammellus, the man that J is working for, has done anything that make me think he's dodgy…just a feeling I have. Couldn't get anything substantial out of Jean, he only seemed really distracted and kept saying, there's nothing left to do, it's out of his hands…

More later. Might have a snoop around.

**POLICE NOTES – Detective Magician John S. Teed**

**30th October**

_Mikhail de Flamellus' personal labs are in disarray, complete mess. Huge fight obviously occurred. Scorch marks on the wall. De Flamellus claims that Griffin and Romaine had a lovers tiff and he tried to break it up. Griffin however is down on the magic register as a witch/hedgewitch and from the mess there were clearly two different magic attacks by strong mages. De Flamellus' claims don't explain why Griffin is missing and Romaine is unconscious (still? After two weeks? Check) and most of his magical equipment has disappeared._

_I suspect Lily Griffin is dead and that Jean-Luc Romaine won't wake up._

A/N Apologies for spelling mistakes, continuity mistakes and also the fact that this has nothing whatsoever to do with our beloved Lord of the Rings. However, the abuse ends with the next chapter and I thought it prudent to give a backstory not the just the usual, oh, she fell into a parallel universe, like you do and then she was totally cool with it because she is unflappable and slightly dim. Oh yeah.

Next time: Orcs, rivers, village folk, language barriers, elves, near death adventures and general confusion. Woo!

Oh! Please review. This is an exercise in my imagination, creativity and ability to stick to it. So feedback would be cool.


	3. Chapter 3

**PART THREE**

**L is for Lost**

"Never been here before,  
I'm intrigued, I'm unsure."

Pure shores – All Saints

"It don't matter to me  
'Cos all I wanted to be  
Was a million miles from here  
Somewhere more familiar,  
Oh my god, I can't believe it  
I've never been this far away from home."

Oh my god- Kaiser Chiefs

There was a kaleidoscope and she was being tumbled about in it. Only the red were angry with her, the white was scalding her, the yellow blinding and the blue was drowning her. She was repelled by the silver and gold, the purple eluded her reach and so she struggled towards the green because it looked peaceful. Suddenly the black seemed to pull at her and as she looked into it's depths she felt panic immobilize her. The pressure of the kaleidoscope was huge, she was being sucked into some sort of vacuum but the green was only inches from her fingertips. She stretched, suspended in the air between the colours and then her index finger dipped into the green and it felt like ink.

She became aware that she was sleeping on something very hard and she wriggled about and wondered if she'd fallen off her bed. No matter, she was too tired to move and she slipped into sleep again. A little later she turned over and some sharp object was digging into her back, so she half sat up and reached for it and when she grasped it she found it was a rock.

What on earth was a rock doing on her bedroom floor?

She sat up and tried valiantly to open her eyes, only to feel a cool breeze on her face. Lily froze and sudden realisation hit her like a bucket of water. That awful bearded bastard had attacked her. She opened her eyes wide and looked around with dismay. Where on earth was she? The peaks? She didn't recognise anything, not the monstrous mountain that lay behind her or the huge forest that was just to the left of the muddy waters in front of her. Was she still in England?

Oh dear, she thought. I've landed myself in trouble and no mistake.

She stretched and sat up properly, her neck had a crick in it and her back felt all funny from lying on the ground. Lily thanked her lucky stars that she was wearing boots and not the flimsy high heels that she had thought about wearing when Jean and she had gone to the pub, because it looked liked she was going to have to do a lot of walking to find civilisation. Not a country type of person, she had no idea where to go but thought she should walk away from the mountain and along the side of the forest, across the plains as she thought it seemed more likely there would be a town there. When she got there, she could find a telephone and call Jean. She felt a bit hazy about what had happened.

She had dragged Jean to the pub, where he had ordered a glass of water (which was slightly creepy, this was Jean, who was almost a French cliché and would drink wine for breakfast if he could) and then had sat for ten minutes staring at his drink, while she tried to softly ask him questions. He was so pale she was sure he was ill. Then she had dragged him back to the manor and put him to bed, then crept off to Flamellus' study, where she had found lots of diagrams and maths equations strewn across the place, which meant nothing to her. She had then used the limited magic she had to break into the private lab, wondering why it was so easy to get in and wondering if she was actually better than she thought she was at magic.

Grimly stomping through a puddle, she realised she should have realised that was never going to be true.

In the lab, she had discovered animal bodies in cages, horribly mangled and the stench of what could only be black magic. She had looked about in almost morbid fascination, looking at the rats, bloated and purple, wheezing, and exuding pus, something that was about the size of a cat and seemed to be inside out, and monkeys that were lifeless and hairless, their eyes dripping down their black faces. Completely freaked out and knowing that it was incredibly stupid of her to come here, she glanced to her left as something caught her eye, it was a very old tome, which seemed very incongruous to the clinical surroundings. Lily approached it with trepidation and had enough Latin to realise that it was a potion book, the illustration depicting something like a zombie. Panic made her bones feel like lead as she realised that Jean had turned from a talkative, overly arrogant but kind man to monosyllabic robot and that Flamellus had probably drugged him.

Suddenly she realised that she had to get both of them out of there right now.

Of course, by then, it was already too late.

She turned around and Flamellus was right behind her. Lily shrieked and backed into the wall. Jean entered, but his eyes looked dead. She had called out to him and she hoped something had flickered in his eyes, but she wasn't sure. Flamellus began chanting in Latin, and she felt intense pain in her stomach and had doubled over and cried out in pain.

Lily vaguely remembered a scuffle between Jean and Flamellus then. Maybe Flamellus attacking her had woken her best friend up from his reverie, at least she hoped so. She remembered things crashing and explosions while she lay on the floor, unable to move and feeling like she was being turned inside out. She had looked up to see Flamellus projecting a circle of black light around Jean, who had looked at her desperately with fear and regret in his eyes.

And then colours. Lots of colours.

And now she was here, wherever here was. She stopped and chewed the inside of her cheek thoughtfully, had Flamellus sent here away to the countryside? She didn't think so, obviously he was up to something, and if he just sent her away she could just go to the police. What had he been doing to those animals? What sort of cruel and twisted experiments had he been subjecting them to? There were a lot of magical experiments going on in Britain, Jean always had stacks of journals full of the conclusions to them, and they were regulated and usually yielded some interesting results. She wasn't sure if they were allowed to use animals, though…usually stupid and poor students were the subjects. What sort of experiment was so dangerous that Flamellus couldn't use humans? Magical science was supposed to be safe and was rather useful, Lily smiled when she remembered the day they cured the common cold. Jean and she had thrown a party where they burnt all their cold medicine.

It didn't look like England. Or Scotland…or Ireland, or Wales. Maybe she was in New Zealand; it certainly looked a bit wild and completely untouched by man. She hoped the locals were friendly and accepted pound sterling, although she was pretty sure five quid wouldn't go very far. Nor would her half packet of polos, she thought, as she popped one in her mouth.

She prayed that Jean was okay, but she couldn't think about that now, she had to find people or at least a shelter before it got too dark…because it looked like the sun was about to set and she was only wearing a jumper and she had absolutely no food on her. Polos didn't count.

Three hours later, she sat under a cleft in the rocky part of a hill and her lip wobbled; and she hugged her knees, completely terrified. She had, in vain, tried to start a fire, first with magic and then by rubbing two sticks together; she felt like a complete and utter failure. Sometime it was hard to be best friends with one of the brightest mages in Europe, when you were so obviously upstaged by his talent, but Lily had never minded too much. She wasn't the ambitious sort and Jean had never made her feel inferior, she could judge people's feeling and situations and that was enough for her. Sometimes she had wondered what it would be like to be included in the circles of the magical elite, to be able to command the weather and change a button into gold, or even start a small fire, but she had been happy with her literary friends and being able to hear about everything second hand.

However, cold and frightened, she felt completely useless and utterly alone and fear was slowly choking her.

So she said the mantra of the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy; don't panic, don't panic, don't panic, please don't panic and slowly soothed herself into sleep.

Hours later she was slowly woken up by un-human shrieking in the distance. Cold and suddenly full of adrenaline, she searched the horizon, where the sun was going to rise in a few short hours, for a sign of anything. She stood up and slowly stretched out her limbs in case she suddenly had to run, feeling alert despite her shaking. The sky was a grey colour and the moon afforded a little light but it was so dark and shadows hid so many things, she thought, trying to assess the situation. The noises had stopped, but if anything, this was more disconcerting than when she had heard them…the silence was terrifying.

Lily's pupils were dilating in fear and her knees were shaking. She tried to laugh herself out of it, c'mon Lily, it's probably some drunk Kiwis having a laugh, you're going to be so embarrassed when you realise how silly you're being…

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

She almost jumped out of her skin, a woman had shrieked about half a mile away from her, near where the mountain was and she could make out someone running towards here, being chased by some other figures. What to do, she thought, should I run too, or what. She strained her eyes in the darkness and some clouds moved away from the moon and a strand of light hit the running figures-Lily almost fainted; a woman in a long dress was running away from about ten…creatures, monsters, disgusting evil fiends…their skins were dark and slimy and their eyes yellow or blood red and manic, wild hair protruded from their scalps and there noses were flat like a serpents, they were clothed in rough metal and spikes and were wielding unsophisticated looking swords and maces.

Lily squeaked and started running away from them.

Although fear is a pretty good motivator, Lily was not very fit and had not eaten anything for over a day and could not see where she was going. She slipped down and tripped up and cut her hands and grazed her knees, swearing all the time and hoping that they couldn't see her or smell her. The things were shrieking in some evil language and she glanced behind her, only to find that they had definitely seen her and were gaining on her. The woman that they were chasing was tiring and looking desperate…she yelled out to Lily and Lily, stopped running. Should she help her?

Instinct took over and she retraced her steps and ran back towards the woman and grabbed her hand and pulled her along. The woman was wearing the strangest clothes, she seemed to have come straight out of the 17th century and was young, maybe sixteen, a girl really, and panting heavily. Lily had no intention of fighting the creatures and decided that their best bet was to head into the forest, so she lead her through the trees, but the girl tugged on her arm and looked even more frightened.

"What?" shouted Lily, "It's just a forest!" and tightened her grip on the girl's wrist and thought that now was really not the time to be afraid of a few trees. Lily was breathing quite heavily, partly because she was out of breath and partly because she had never been this frightened in her life and was wondering how on earth she was going to make it out of this alive. The things were bearing on her and she told herself not to even think about what they would do to them if they were caught, don't panic, don't panic, oh my god what if they-shut up Lily shut up now…

The forest was dark, but silvery shards were piercing the trees and Lily suddenly felt extremely strong magic and immediately fell over, pulling the girl down with her. She dragged herself up, muttering sorry to the girl and continued to run into the forest, the magic did not feel evil…although the prickling sensation on her neck made her aware that they were being watched…by people in the trees maybe. The girl, who was now beginning to really piss Lily off, was sobbing and was becoming quite difficult to pull along, her fear had consumed her. Lily looked behind and the things were barely ten feet behind them, so she tried to quicken her pace and weaved through the trees…the forest was eerily quiet except for the grunting and taunting of the evil creatures and the snapping of twigs under their feet…but Lily was sure that other people were near. If this was a good thing or a bad thing, she wasn't sure. The light was getting scarce and the trees thicker and the girl had clearly given up hope as Lily was half dragging her along. If there were people here in the wood, why weren't they helping them?

Strange words were softly whispered as if into her ear. She looked around, confounded, and asked the voice in her head for help, please help me.

She stopped suddenly and turned around; she could run no longer and decided that she may as well face her attackers. The things grinned with evil malice and Lily was hit by an overwhelming stench of rotting flesh and god knows what. She threw the girl behind her and put her fists up, hoping that the evil creatures wouldn't see through her façade of bravery, but they did and she was subjected to a cruel and merciless laugh. Yellow and red eyes flashed at her and the things communicated to each other…Lily was sure they were discussing who was to get who…one swung it's sword at her and she ducked out the way and kicked the sword out it's claws but that didn't deter it for she fell backwards as it lunged at her-

Arrows shot through the air and through the thing skull, protruding through it's eye, other arrows shot down it's fellow monsters and the others tried to run but they were shot in the back before they had taken more than two steps. Lily looked behind her, only to see the girl lying unconscious on the ground and three silvery figures.

She breathed in sharply…they were tall and male, holding bows and arrows, beautiful and majestic and proud and noble, clothed in silvery velvet and they had long blonde hair and pointy ears. Her eyes widened as she took in this fact and wondered where on earth Flamellus had sent her. She quickly stood up and walked in front of the girl, in an effort to protect her. The glorious creatures looked at her with suspicious eyes and seemed as if they were going to draw their bows on her, so she held up her hands and bowed her head to them in a submissive gesture, while gently prodding the girl behind her with her foot, hoping that she would wake up.

"Thank you."

The tallest of her heroes raised his eyebrow curiously. She wondered if they spoke the same language and supposed not as she was in a strange land that was definitely not anywhere she had heard of. His eyes travelled down her body, taking in her clothes, black boots, black jeans, a silver belt and what been a dark green jumper, but was now covered in dirt and leaves. She supposed she looked a bit strange to someone who was wearing a silvery cloak and what looked like leggings, but really, was their any need for that completely disdainful look? She stood up properly, slowly and deliberately gave him the once over, then raised her eyebrows as if to say, you look odd to me, too. The person to his left tried and failed to contain a smile, but then tallest one looked un-amused as at her defiance and said something in an incomprehensible language. She looked at him blankly and prodded the girl with her foot again. "Wake up!" she whispered and the girl stirred, looked around her sleepily, saw the three pointy eared creatures and screamed so loudly that Lily jumped and almost fell over again. The girl got up very quickly and started to run out the forest, where Lily could see the sun was almost rising.

"Where are you going?" called Lily, who got no reply, so she called again, "Aren't you going to say thank you?" To the pointy eared creatures or me, she thought, perplexed. She turned back to the people and shrugged, her face contrite. "Very rude. I wouldn't be going back out there in a hurry either." She watched the girl clambering over the dead monsters and scrambling into the distance and turned back to the pointy eared people, then clasped her hands together, as if in prayer and bowed her head, hoping that they knew this was the international sign for thank you.

The people looked at her, as if trying to make her out and she felt more of them approaching her from behind, so she turned around, to see them coming at her with rope and a blindfold. "Um, um please don't kill me-" she said, feeling that once again, she had completely misjudged the situation and that your enemy's enemy sometimes was your enemy too and not your friend, but yet they didn't feel evil…she walked backwards into something, looked up and saw she had bumped into the tall one. "Please?" she asked. He frowned and then she started to struggle as he held her as she was tied down. Her last thought before she fell into unconsciousness was that it this was most definitely the worst day of her life.

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**Reviews and constructive critcism would be much appreciated ;)**

**Apologies again, if there are any mistakes and incongruities - feel free to point them out.**

**Cheers!!**

**I'm not sure what to do for part four...if you have any suggestions...?**


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